


How to hold a sword

by dreaming_about_fanfictions



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, part 1 of 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23759023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaming_about_fanfictions/pseuds/dreaming_about_fanfictions
Summary: You are bored with your life and want more. Luckily, Geralt of Rivia visits the town one day.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & You, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Part 1

„Stop wasting my time. “

„Come on! I can pay you!”

“Sure you can.”

“Yes! Don’t you believe me?”

“Stop bothering me and go home.”

“I have coin! Here!”

Finally, the Witcher turned around when he heard the rattling of the coins in your small bag as you held it up. He quickly grabbed your hand, forcing it down. “Are you mad or do you enjoy the idea of being robbed,” he scolded you.

He was right. You were standing in the middle of a busy street, merchants and farmers passing you by as they made their way home from the market. The sun was already beginning to set and the first drunks stumbled out of the tavern to your right. Two working girls shrieked when a man fell against them, landing face down on one of the their bosoms, and angrily pushed him away.

You let the small bag slip back into the pocket of your coat. “I have coin!”, you repeated yourself.

“Where’d you get that?”, he demanded to know. “Did you steal it?”

You snorted. Asshole. “My family owns half the town. Did you not recognize this?!” You pointed at your necklace with the family emblem brightly visible.

His eyes only grazed shortly over it. “I’m not from here.”

“Right, because you’re Geralt of Rivia, a Witcher, a famous one – so give me one reason why you would decline my offer?”

“Teaching spoilt girls how to hold a sword is not in my job description.”

“First of all,” this time you pointed your finger at him. “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman, so start treating me like one! And secondly, as far as I’m concerned, there is no monster to kill for you at the moment.”

“There’s always monsters to kill.”

“Witcher!” A frustrated sigh escaped your mouth. What was his problem?

Geralt looked at you intensely, his eyes wandering from your face to your pocket, where the coins were stowed, back to your face. He pondered about what the offer would truly mean – letting another person come too close to him rarely resulted in anything good. People around him tend to end up hurt or heartbroken or dead. The last person to experience this had been Jaskier. Years of traveling together and it ended in Geralt chasing him away, blaming him for things that weren’t his fault. This happened a few years back and since then, the two of them had rekindled their friendship, but still. His point remained unchanged.

However, this could be different. You didn’t seek him out to become friends. It was nothing more than a job. Not to mention that your comment about him not having anything better to do at the moment was true. He could really use the coin. Before Geralt was able to rethink this, he wiped his eyes in a tiring and annoyed matter. “Fine.”

Your face lit up instantly and a big smile appeared on it. “Yes? Oh thank you!”

“Ten days.”

“That’s a good start!”, you exclaimed happily.

“It’s not a start, it’s all I’m offering,” he corrected you. Were you always this cheerful or just when you got your way? “What do I get out of it?”

“Three coins for each day.”

The Witcher raised an eyebrow. There was far more in that bag of yours and you both knew it. “Eight.”

“Four.”

“Seven.”

“Witcher!”

“Six then.”

“Five.”

“Deal,” he nodded.

Your smile grew even wider. “Thank you! This is fantastic!”

The only acknowledgment you got for that statement was a low grunt. He wasn’t so sure about it being a fantastic idea. “Meet me here tomorrow when the sun rises. Do you own a sword?”

He let out a sigh when you shook your head. “Of course you don’t. Doesn’t matter. Tomorrow, when the sun rises! Understood?”

“Understood!”

*** 

You arrived early the next morning. The excitement for the days to come was too overwhelming so after hours of tossing and turning and occasionally falling into a half slumber, you decided to cut the night short.

You nervously looked around you. Despite the late (or rather early) hour, the street was buzzing with people. Mostly drunks but no less intimidating. It was the second time you visit this part of the town as your mother would forbid you to come here. “It’s a dangerous place,” she always said, “nothing to find there except for criminals and whores.” Observing the people around you, she might had a point.

Growing up in one of the richest families of the town was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Nothing seemed to be missing from your life – dresses and jewelry, parties and royal receptions – everything was there in arm’s reach. You never had to work a day in your life and never went to bed on an empty stomach. Still, you were unhappy. You were born into this world with no purpose. All you had to do was look pretty, agree to a beneficial marriage and produce heirs. Your father didn’t allow you to be something else, something more. You never asked for much, knowing he’d deny your requests, except for learning how to fight and defend yourself. It was a simple desire but you hoped it would give you something. What, you weren’t sure. A purpose maybe? Indubitably, he refused you.

A sense of guilt and shame rushed through you. It happened every time as you were aware that the problems were nothing more than luxurary at best. After all, what gave you, a privileged girl with no troubles, the right to complain when there were people starving and dying?

“Well, ‘ello there, aren’t you a pretty one.”

You shrieked at the slurring words coming from your left. A man, smelling of beer and piss, reeled towards you. A disgusted look on your face, you took a step back.

“What’s that face, pretty one? Don’t cha think I’m pretty too?” 

“Fuck off!”

A second voice made you turn around in surprise. Geralt of Rivia was standing in the doorway of the tavern, glaring at the drunk. Even in his current state of mind, the man sensed that Geralt wasn’t someone he wanted to bother, so he spit out undefinable curses and stumbled away.

“Thank you,” you said to the Witcher. He looked different this morning. Rested and bathed, you figured and realized his attractiveness for the first time since you met him. Last night you were more focused on convincing him to train you. Tall, broad, with his glooming golden eyes and white hair that fell loosely on his shoulders – only a blind person could deny his good looks.

Geralt eyed you up and down. “Now why would you wear that?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion and looked down at your blue dress and fine cloak that hugged your figure. “What?”

“You want to learn how to fight, am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not.”

“And you’re gonna do that in a dress?”

“I’ve seen women fight in dresses.”

“But not in fucking ball gowns.”

“This is not a ball gown!” You protested.

He rolled his eyes and started walking. “Whatever, come on. We have a long day ahead.” 

You followed, struggling to keep up with him. He didn’t seem to care all that much. “Why do you sleep here?” You pointed back to the run-down pension.

“What do you mean?”

“With the money I’m paying, you can afford better … places.”

“I like it here.”

“You like sleeping around these creatures?”

Geralt didn’t answer instead he shot you a glance that made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You knew exactly what he thought in this moment – he probably regretted taking the job and dreaded the fact that he was stuck with a spoilt girl like you for the next days. You didn’t blame him.

You couldn’t have known on this day but you were wrong. Geralt didn’t have any regrets – not yet however. He saw you as spoilt, yes. He also recognized your will to change – or else you wouldn’t have come to him in the first place.

***

One hour later and Geralt finally stopped in his tracks. You were more than thankful as your feet already started to hurt. The two of you had left the town far behind and had now reached a small clearing in the woods.

With a sigh you sat down and leaned against a tree. Geralt kept his gaze on the ground and walked around the clearing, looking for something.

You watched him. There was certainly something about that Witcher with his tall figure, white-hair and brooding looks. Only a blind woman would deny that. For a brief moment, you wondered if he had a companion or a consort, so to speak. What kind of woman did he desire? You had heard rumors about a mage he had taken as his lover. So probably powerful woman, fighters, he didn’t need to worry about protecting.

“Here,” a stick landing in front of you catapulted you back into reality.

You looked at the stick and back at Geralt. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Fight,” only then you noticed a second branch, resting in his hand.

“With a stick?”

“Yes.”

You grabbed it and got up in the same movement. “I’m not a child, I won’t play with sticks,” putting some force behind your words, you looked at him intensely.

His face didn’t falter. “What do you suggest instead?”

“A sword. I want to learn how to fight with a sword.”

“You’re not ready.”

“We only have two weeks though, we need to speed up this whole process,” you argued.

“You’re not ready.” He repeated sternly.

You kept staring at him, realizing that you wouldn’t win this argument. A sigh left your lips. “Fine.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “Great. Let’s get started.”

***

The first training was an absolute disaster. You were convinced that you spent the most time on the ground, face-down in the mud – the rest of the time you got your ass kicked. The exhaustion you felt when you were back in the tavern with torn clothes and leaves in your hair came close to nothing you ever experienced in your life.

Geralt sat next to you, happily eating his piece of chicken, looking like he had just returned home from a lazy and relaxed day out of town.

“You should eat something,” he said in between bites.

You looked down at your plate where the food remained untouched. “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are.”

As if your stomach wanted to agree, a low growl was heard.

Geralt smirked but didn’t comment.

“Fine,” you admitted. “I’m starving.”

“But?”

“Everything hurts.” It was true, you felt too exhausted to take one bite out of the meat.

He shrugged. “Of course it does. You’ll get better though.”

“I don’t think so,” you sighed. “Did you see me today?!”

“I’ll tell you what,” Geralt said with a chuckle. “I promise that you’ll be able to fight and win against Jaskier by the end of this.”

“Is he a good fighter?” You asked with narrowed eyes.

“He’s not too bad.”

“What if I lose against him?”

“You’ll get your coin back.”

“Deal.” You nodded in contently. Then you added after a brief moment: “Wait, who’s Jaskier?”

“He’s traveling with me,” Geralt simply answered and took a sip from his beer mug. “You’ll meet him tomorrow. He knows people from this town.”

Jaskier. You were curious about the kind of person a Witcher spent his time with when he wasn’t away, hunting beasts. Was he as calm and collected as Geralt? Always so serious?

Another growl came from your stomach and you looked back at the plate. Well, maybe not eating at all would be a worse decision. After all, there were nine more days filled with exhaustion ahead of you. Slowly, you reached down to grab one of the chicken legs and bit into it.

Geralt watched you carefully and a very small part of him began to like the idea of having to spend more dinners with you in the next days. Of course, he’d never admit it. Not even to himself.


	2. Part 2

The days flew by.

You spent your days training, eating, sleeping and making excuses of why you couldn’t join your family for meals anymore. On day five you told them, you were handing out food to the poor and they finally stopped complaining.

Your fighting skills improved ever so slightly with each passing training. On day two, it already took Geralt more than one minute to make you land on your face. On day four, it was almost three minutes and you managed to hit him with the stick so hard, he pulled a grimace. It made you laugh and in the next moment, you were sitting on your ass after he kicked your legs away from under you. On day five you were finally allowed to use a sword for the first time. It rested heavy in your hand and felt different than expected. It took you a while to get used to it.

Your skin was covered in blue marks, your knees were grazed and every limb in your body sore. At home, you wore long-sleeved dresses despite the hot summer sun shining down on the town. One time when you were changing clothes, Geralt walked by the door and caught a glimpse of your bruised skin before quickly turning away. A sense of guilt rushed through him and he gritted his teeth. He wondered whether or not he was too harsh on you. The next day, the Witcher slowed down, taking it easy on you.

“Don’t go easy on me,” you demanded when you noticed it. “We only have ten days and you handling me with kid gloves won’t get me any further.”

He was reluctant at first but proceeded to follow your request.

You grew quite fond of the Witcher. (Maybe a little too fond.) He wasn’t much of a talker but you managed to tease some stories out of him one late evening. They were nothing less than impressive and got you dreaming of a life alongside him, fighting evil, saving people. Being aware that this would stay nothing more than a dream, you decided to enjoy the short time you had with him.

Geralt felt the same way about you. He had been so opposed to teaching you at first and now he looked forward to having dinner with you every evening and seeing you again in the mornings. You were a welcome distraction, a breath of fresh air with your cheerful nature. He saw that you grew up sheltered and lived a life far away from the troubles most people faced: hunger, poverty, sickness. And yet, something about you was different. To him it seemed like you craved breaking out of that bubble that protected you and wanted to experience the world for how it really was with all its terrifying sights. However, Geralt wasn’t sure if you truly understood what that meant for you.

Jaskier noticed quickly how intrigued Geralt was by you. He saw the way the Witcher looked at you – always one second too long – and perceived the way he smiled when you told a story or made a joke. Obviously Jaskier wasn’t able to just shut up about it. Oh no. When you were gone he relentlessly teased Geralt for his little crush on you. Even when you were around, the occasional comment slipped out followed by an angry glance coming from Geralt.

This didn’t just go by unnoticed by you. It caused you to blush and to quickly look down on your plate. Jaskier was making fun of you, you thought in those moments. He must have noticed how you acted around Geralt and it was embarrassing. Obviously, Geralt did not feel the same. You were nothing more than a job to him. A way to pass time and earn some money on the side. How else could you explain the angry way he looked at Jaskier after every comment the bard made?

*** 

Day 10

“Nervous?” Geralt appeared next to you.

You were leaning against a tree, looking at the clearing where you had spent the past ten days trying to learn how to fight. In all honesty, you weren’t sure how to feel. On the hand, you were sad that it would all be over by tonight. You would probably never see Geralt and Jaskier or pet Roach again. You’d be left behind, returning to your old life. On the other hand, you were excited and nervous about the upcoming fight.

It was a duel between you and Jaskier. On the first night, Geralt had promised you that by the end of the training you’d be able to win against the bard. When you first informed Jaskier about it he was appalled and a little insulted but came around the next day. You could only wonder about what Geralt had said to him.

“I shouldn’t be the one that’s nervous,” you smiled at the Witcher in a cocky manner. “After all, you’re gonna lose all your money if Jaskier wins.”

“No, I have no reason to be nervous. I have faith in you. Besides – if Jaskier wins I’ll make him regret it,” he added with a wink.

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“Apologies for my late arrival!”

You turned around and saw Jaskier step out the woods. He wore a big grin on his face and seemed to be in an excellent mood. “I was …,” he cleared his throat, “…busy.”

“Found another girl with no self-respect?” Geralt asked dryly. The question made you chuckle.

“Normally I would be offended by this insult, Geralt,” Jaskier shook his head but the grin didn’t vanish from his face.

“What’s different today?“ You wanted to know.

“Today, dear Y/N, I didn’t only find one girl with no self-respect,” he paused dramatically, “… but two.”

“Oh gods,” Geralt groaned.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you laughed again. Jaskier and you got along well from the day you met him. He was funny and a sweetheart and in all truthfulness, you understood why women liked the bard.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Geralt,” Jaskier teased the Witcher.

“Enough already,” the man replied. “We’re here for another reason, aren’t we?”

“Oh yes,” Jaskier rubbed his hands together. “I heard Y/N wants to experience what loosing feels like.”

“Do you not get your ass kicked enough by the husbands of your conquests or why are you so cocky?” You stepped away from the tree and walked towards the middle of the clearing. Jaskier followed behind you as you two continued your banter.

The two of you faced each other, ten feet apart. You reached for your sword, gripping it tightly, trying not to let his snarky comments distract you.

“Well, you know the rules,” Geralt announced, making Jaskier shut up. “Let’s –“

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as a loud voice sounded behind you. “Y/N?!”

Fuck.

You whirled around, your skin white as a sheet.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?!” Your brother walked towards you, holding the reins of his horse loosely in his hands.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted out.

“I followed you. I wanted to know what you were up to. I didn’t believe the bullshit lies you told mother.” He stopped in front of you, eyeing you up and down. “For a good reason apparently. What are you wearing, what is this?”

“I…” There was nothing you could have said to make this situation better. The anger was written over your brothers face clear as day as he towered over you, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Wait, are you … are you fighting?” He almost barked out when he noticed the sword you were still hiding.

“Well, I …”

Again, he didn’t give you a chance to explain and did something that left you with confusion: he laughed. Loudly. “You got to be kidding me!” 

You blinked, taken aback by his reaction.

“Who is this, Y/N?” Geralt who had observed everything silently so far stepped forwards with a stern look on his face.

“Who the fuck are you?” Your brother demanded to know.

“Are you aware that we have more words in our language than ‘fuck’?” Apparently Jaskier didn’t plan on sitting this one out.

“Oh shut up, everyone!” You interfered quickly before your brother had a chance to reply. You turned to the Witcher. “Geralt, this is my brother.”

Geralt continued to stare at the other man. You noticed the tenseness in his body and sensed how quickly everything could escalate in the next few minutes. Your brother was the eldest of your siblings and always viewed himself as the protector of the family. In reality, he was only an ego-driven man with a lot of anger issues.

“Geralt?” He scoffed. “On first name basis already?”

“I hired him to teach me how to fight,” you began calmly as he hated nothing more than women with loud opinions. “I knew none of you would understand so I –”

“You’re damn right, I don’t understand any of this nonsense!”

„Maybe you would, if you’d let her finish for once,” Geralt pointed out.

Your brother didn’t answer right away. He let his gaze wander over the unusual clothes Geralt wore, his white hair, and the necklace resting against his chest. For a short moment you saw how his eyes slightly widened when he realized it. “You’re a Witcher. Geralt of Rivia, if I’m not mistaken,” he then stated.

Geralt smiled. “So you’re not as dumb as you look.”

“Geralt!” You hissed. Behind you, Jaskier chuckled.

Your brothers face grew red in anger. “I can’t believe you sought out these people, Y/N. How stupid are you women that –”

Geralts eyes narrowed. “Talk to her like that again and –“

“And what?” He snarled. “What will happen then? Will you attack me? Slaughter me like all the other innocent people that stand in your way, Butcher?!”

To your surprise, Geralt didn’t immediately reach for his sword. He did not move, he did not even blink at the words spoken to him. When your brother finished, he calmly said: “I might if you keep talking nonsense.”

“Stop it! Just stop it!” You finally snapped. Looking at your brother, you pleaded: “Let it go, please!”

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Your brothers hand rested on the handle of his sword, his face still red with anger. He wanted to challenge Geralt, you just knew it. You were also aware that it would not end well. Your brother was a skilled fighter but could not compare to Geralt. Finally, he turned his look away from the Witcher, back to you. “You’re coming home with me now.”

“She will not.”

“It’s alright, Geralt,” you tried to appease him.

Your brother smirked at your words. “You heard her, Geralt.”

“It’s not alright,” Geralt countered. “Y/N, he has no right to treat you that way.”

“Stop it, please,” you urged him. “It’s okay.”

“Come on, now.” Visibly annoyed, your brother turned around. “Let’s go.”

You let out a sigh and rubbed over your eyes as a wave of sadness and disappointment washed over you. So this is how it had to end. 

“Y/N …” Jaskier began but you shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly and looked at Geralt. You were certain you’d never see him again. This was it. “Thank you for everything.”

Geralt simply nodded. No last words, no nothing. With a timid wave and a smile you sent towards Jaskier, you followed behind your brother.

“Father has to give you away already,” he stated when you caught up to him. “Maybe you’ll understand your role when you have a husband to serve.”

*** 

“Uff,” Jaskier made when you were out of earshot. “That guy was … something.” 

He looked over to Geralt who kept staring at your back until you disappeared behind the trees. Even then, he remained still, brows furrowed.

“Well, at least you don’t have to pay her back,” Jaskier added, trying to lighten the mood.

Still nothing.

“You should have said something, y’know. Or at least smiled at her,” Jaskier shrugged. “She likes you. And you like her. Obviously.”

“This is not over,” Geralt then said.

*** 

Midnight, you thought when you heard the bell outside your window. You were laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to process today’s events. When you had returned home, your family had been all over you. Asking questions that turned into accusations which resulted in screaming and crying. It had been shameful.

You were exhausted but your mind wouldn’t calm down. You thought about the past days and about Jaskier and Geralt. It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Knock knock knock.

You sat up.

Knock. 

There it was again. A quiet tapping on the door.

“Yes?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

The person on the other side must have heard you anyways because the door opened slightly. “May I come in?”

“Jaskier!” You exclaimed, trying to keep your voice down. You practically jumped from your bed, rushing towards him.

“Shh, quiet now,” Jaskier uttered out.

“How did you get in?” You wondered.

“Turned on my charm a little and sneaked in through the kitchen entrance.”

You chuckled but made a mental note of asking Hilda, the kitchen maid, if letting strangers into the house was a common occurrence. “What are you doing here?”

“Geralt is waiting outside, down by the water well,” he whispered. “Meet him there in a few minutes. Let me leave first.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shh, just go there,” Jaskier flinched when he heard steps coming from above him. Someone was still awake in this house. “Gotta go now. Oh and Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really sorry. I wish you stayed around longer.”

You smiled slightly at his heart-warming words. In the next moment however, he was gone. After a few more moments, you slipped out of the room, sneaking downstairs and out into the garden. Your knees felt so weak, you were scared of tripping and falling. Excitement and confusion equally rushed through your body. You would see him again, you realized happily.

The water well was on the edge of your property, hidden by rose bushes and flowering fruit trees. You almost ran towards it, scared someone would look out the window and see you outside. When you reached it, no one was to be seen.

„Y/N,“ Geralt appeared from behind one of the apple trees.

Smiling widely, you hugged him. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled when you pulled back. “I was just happy to see you.” Then you reached into the pockets of your dress, remembering that this was probably the reason he came here. „I brought you the coin.” You still owed him the second part of the payment.

Geralt smiled back at you, closing your fingers around the coin with his hand. “It’s not why I’m here. Keep it.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Then why are you here?”

Geralt didn’t meet your eyes. He bowed his head, seeming unusually … shy. A premonition came over. No, you quickly chased the thought away. No, this wasn’t the reason.

“I …,” he began. “The past days … ah, fuck!” 

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a burden on you,” a sigh left your lips. “You were an amazing teacher though.”

He shook his head. “No, no. I don’t know how to put it.”

“Oh.” You made a step back, eyes fixated on the ground. 

“Y/N …,” he whispered and suddenly you felt his fingers under your chin. He lifted it, carefully making you look at him. He was close now. So close you were able to smell the leather from his clothes. Your breath trembled, anticipating his next move. Was this really happening?

It was.

When your lips touched, it was nothing more than a faint brush. Yet it caused fireworks going off inside you and you held on to his jacket, scared that your legs would give away. Then he kissed you again. Harder this time, with more force, moving his lips against yours as he grabbed you by your waist.

“I still don’t understand.” You were out of breath when he pulled away. “This is only a job for you…”

Geralt chuckled. “It’s not – and I think you know that,” his voice had a softness to it, you never heard before. “It stopped being a job on the first evening.”

You blinked. Why would Geralt of Rivia fall for a girl like you? It didn’t make sense for you.

“Am I wrong to assume you don’t feel the same?” He asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

“You’re not wrong.” Of course, he wasn’t wrong. You had pushed your feelings aside, being convinced that someone like him wouldn’t like someone as spoilt as you.

“You think too badly of yourself.”

Your eyes widened. “Did I say that out loud?”

Geralt smiled softly before leaning in for another kiss.

“What are we gonna do?” You whispered afterwards.

He sighed. “I don’t know yet but we’ll figure it out.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Ten days ago you were so bored with your life, you hired a damn Witcher for some excitement – and now, an adventure bigger than you ever imagined awaited you. Who would have thought your lives would change so quickly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Check out my tumblr @dreaming-about-starfleet where I take requests! <3


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